


Haunted by the Echoes

by bleedinglight



Category: Kingdom Hearts (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Death, Ghosts, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Obsessive Behavior, VanVen Week (Kingdom Hearts), Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 11,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28218366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bleedinglight/pseuds/bleedinglight
Summary: It started with the story of two young men.Everything always comes together in the end.
Relationships: Vanitas/Ventus (Kingdom Hearts)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	1. A Song of Storms

**Union**

It started with a story.

Of two young men.

Both of them differed from the other in many ways. One was like the sun: blond hair with beautiful sky-blue eyes that seemed to resemble jewels in the right hit of sunlight. The other was like the moon: dark hair resembling that of a raven’s feathers, eyes a piercing gold that seemed otherworldly. One was pure. The other tainted. One smiled as if the world didn’t burden him. The other didn’t know how to smile, lips forever in a scowl that marred his handsome face. Anyone who saw them would never expect them to ever be acquainted with one another. Anyone who saw them would never believe that these two boys would ever cross paths.

But they did.

Their meeting wasn’t sudden.

Oh, far from it.

They had a mutual acquaintance—a childhood friend of the boy of sun and the business partner of the moon. This acquaintance introduced them to each other at a party where they both attended, both out of their element in different ways.

Was that meeting one of love at first sight?

Or was it something else?

No one could really know for sure.

Even respected friends could never really understand what transpired that night. It felt as if there was an eclipse in the air. The sun and the moon finally met; their paths crossed and now, it seemed like it would keep on crossing. One way, somehow, they met each other—sometimes meeting for coffee, sometimes taking walks together.

These two young men?

Ventus Caelum and Vanitas Nox.

Others liked to say that their story was one of romance. A pair of star-crossed lovers, some might say. It seemed almost inevitable for the two of them to fall in love with one another. With the way Ventus’ jeweled eyes shone even brighter than the sun whenever he was with Vanitas. With the way Vanitas’ scowl morphed into something softer, something reserved only for that boy of sun he grew to care and love so much.

Others liked to claim their story was a tragedy, doomed from the start.

Despite his sunny personality, Ventus was slated for death from the beginning. A child cursed with an illness that would eat away his health from the inside. Knowing that his death was approaching, his parents gave little care to their oldest son; instead, they preferred to keep their attention on their youngest. If one son was to die, then they had another to care for. If one already had an ending, then they can focus on the one who still had a beginning. Even so, Ventus still kept his smiles, still shone brighter than so many others around him. It made people desire to be close to him.

Vanitas, on the other hand, came from a family who paid too much attention to him. Being the youngest son of a prodigious family, expectations often fall onto his shoulders. His brothers were already successful in their own ventures. They already had their own lives prepared and waiting for them. Family. Heirs. Businesses. They were successful in everything they did. Now, it was his turn. He was meant to follow in their footsteps. He was meant to follow in their footsteps. Meant to follow their family’s legacy. A tool meant to further spread his grandfather’s influence.

A boy meant to die.

A boy meant to walk a path already written for him.

No one would ever expect them to run into each other. No one would ever expect them to fall in love.

But they did.

But for one of them who possessed a desire so great, things were bound to grow tragic.

Vanitas’ family disapproved of him spending his time with Ventus. They did everything they could to keep them apart. Send Vanitas away. Ensure that they keep their distance. But Vanitas was cunning. Years under Xehanort’s tutelage made him sneaky, manipulative to an extent. He had gone along with his family’s whims for so long, for so many years of his life—they would not take this away from him.

They will not take away the breath of fresh air that had entered his life and made it worth living.

He went around their backs. He ensured that, no matter what they do, they would not be able to stop him from achieving what he so greatly desired. And what he desired was that beautiful boy who shone so bright that it was killing him from the inside.

They say that their love burned. It started with a simple spark that turned into raging flames that was quick to devour them both. Neither of them wasted any time in admitting their feelings to one another. Neither of them wanted to waste any more time.

Time was always an enemy.

It was so fickle at times. It couldn’t be trusted.

There were people who liked to claim that their marriage was beautiful.

It was shared only between them. Between their closest friends. It was perfect.

A perfect romance.

A perfect tragedy.

When Ventus passed away from his illness, Vanitas remained by his bedside. He refused to let anyone take his husband away from him. Absolutely refused to let anyone touch him. More than anything, he forbade Ventus’ family from ever trying to reach out to him, try to give him a proper burial. No one knew what happened after. Some claimed that Vanitas singlehandedly buried Ventus in the garden that they both loved so much. Others liked to say that Vanitas still had his corpse somewhere in the house, talking to it as if he were still alive. Several tales were born. Some of them true. Some of them false. Really, it was hard to know for sure which was the truth.

But they were stories.

Who knew what truly happened behind closed doors. What made Ventus cling so hard to Vanitas and what made Vanitas hold Ventus so close as if he was his most prized possession. Their spirits walked together in the empty hallways of their house, remaining untouched throughout the years out of pure fear that they would be haunted by Vanitas’ spite.

Of course, they were only stories.

Sora swallowed the lump that formed in his throat as he stared at the man he was interviewing.

The story was sudden, but appreciated. Yet, he couldn’t deny the chills that ran down his spine as the story continued on. While the story was romantic, it felt off somehow. Everyone knew that a good love story was also a ghost story, but this was…different. It made Sora second guess his decision in choosing this topic of his assignment.

“Ah—thank you,” he managed out, getting to his feet. He felt unnerved by the golden eyes that seemed to stare at him. “Really, thank you. This helped me out a lot.”

His host smiled. “Of course. Anytime. Was there anything else you needed to know?”

There was, but Sora wasn’t sure how to ask it.

His grip tightened on his notebook.

“Just…one thing.” Golden eyes looked at him expectantly. “How did Vanitas die? You mentioned Ventus, but…what about Vanitas?”

A slow blink.

Then that smile widened. “It’s uncertain, to be honest. Many people liked to say he died of old age, at peace at last that he can join his husband in death. Other accounts would say that he committed suicide in his home as he couldn’t bear to be apart from his love any longer. Really, who knows?”

That wasn’t helpful, but Sora didn’t want to linger any longer than he already had.

With a quick thanks of gratitude, Sora hurried out of the house.

His host watched him, unmoving. With a deep chuckle, he slowly stood to his feet and walked down the hallway. It hadn’t changed over the years. Still the same. Still holding the scents of a past long forgotten by others aside from him. At the end of the hall, there stood an oval mirror. A gift from an old friend. A gift that he prized more than anything.

As he slowly approached it, another face stared back at him.

Lips curling up into a smile, he placed his palm against the mirror’s surface, watching as the man on the other side did the same. Instead of golden eyes, bright blue eyes stared back at him. Instead of dark hair, golden hair framed his face in a way that he could only describe as perfection.

He leaned close, pressing his forehead against the mirror and watching as the man in the mirror did the same.

“It’s me. It’s you. It’s us,” he whispered, feeling a lightness in his chest.

Nothing will ever tear them apart.


	2. Walking in the Mirror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Past Lives/Parallel

Days passed by as they always do.

A blur of motion, a blend of colors that never seemed to make any sense. He wasn’t sure how much more he would be able to handle this, honestly. Sometimes, his days felt as if they were nothing more than words written on a page for the sake of writing. Just one blink and it was the next day.

And the next.

And the next.

And the next.

An endless loop that never ceased. It made him feel like his days were flying by too fast for him to ever really register what was happening.

His mother once told him, jokingly, that it was because there was a part of him missing. That there was a piece of him still waiting to be found, forever lost in time. Of course, it was a joke, but Ventus always thought it might be true. It would explain the blurring days he experienced or how his memories seemed to be mixed up in some way. But he kept it to himself, never wanting to worry his mother.

His mother always worked hard, always so kind and generous to others. She was a doting mother to him, always being sure to give him her utmost attention as if making up for it in a past life. He wasn’t sure what it was really. Part of him basked in her attention, like a plant soaking up sunlight. It was warm and bright. It gave him a breath of life as she grounded him from becoming too lost in his thoughts. The other part wanted to sneer, a strange kind of vindictiveness curling in his chest. It made him want to scorn his mother, punish her—but for what? She had done nothing wrong.

He told himself that he was imaging things.

That his mother did nothing wrong to him.

That his life wasn’t passing by him in such a flurry of motion that made him want to throw up.

That, whenever he looked at his reflection in the mirror, he would see someone else.

A man with dark hair and golden eyes.

There was something about him that made Ventus feel uncomfortable yet drawn to him at the same time. Like a magnet was pulling him toward the man as much as it physically can. The moment he became aware of it, he tried his best to avoid looking at his reflection for long periods of time.

He didn’t want to look at a man he didn’t know.

(Yet, there was always that itch. Something that made him want to pull down the sheet he placed over his mirror just to see him.)

Sometimes, he dreamed.

_He was at a party. There was soft music playing in the air, the tunes similar to the ones he would hear on his mother’s records. Bodies were pressed together, dancing slowly in circles around the room while others stood off to the side, watching and talking with one another._

_There was something familiar about this party, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it._

_But it didn’t matter._

_He ventured out onto the nearest balcony for fresh air, free from the scent of wine and champagne, the overwhelming perfume that made him feel as if he was suffocating. The stars were a pleasant sight. Natural light compared to the iridescence of candle lights behind him. It made him feel at ease. More at home._

_He was content on being alone for a moment._

_He had friends. He enjoyed company. But more often than not, he felt more alone even in the busiest of rooms. But then a deep voice greeted him and his gaze lifted, blue meeting gold._

_For once, he felt himself fall._

There were times when his wrists would ache, a phantom feeling of fingers wrapping around them. It always felt as if someone was trying to keep their grip on him, preventing him from trying to go anywhere. Clinging to him as if he would slip away. The feeling grew so often that it made him begin to rub at his wrists unconsciously. No matter how much he tried to will it away, it kept coming back.

_You were mine once._

_I won’t let anyone have you._

_Come back to me._

Ventus continued to dream.

But there were times when these dreams felt more like memories. It played out like a movie in his sleep—so vivid and real that every time he woke up, he felt like he just experienced it firsthand. The itch to look at his reflection in the mirror grew stronger. He didn’t know why.

He knew his mother was concerned. She would begin to check up on him. She would try to sit with him, try to get him to talk it out. The dreams. Everything. But he never said a word. He didn’t know how to tell her about these dreams that he was having. That he felt like a part of him was ripped away, tucked away somewhere that he couldn’t find. So, he smiled and reassured her. Instead of her comforting him, he would comfort her.

He was fine.

Always fine.

He couldn’t let himself be anything else otherwise.

But then everything seemed to change. His dreams changed.

_He was standing in front of a mirror._

_He still tried his best to avoid mirrors. He still tried his best to avoid looking at his reflection in fear that he would see something he didn’t want to see again. But for whatever reason, he was standing in front of one._

_But something was different._

_His hand reached out, palm pressed against the surface._

_He looked into the mirror._

_Something clenched at his heart, his chest growing tight._

_He was expecting to see that man again in the mirror. The one with the dark hair and golden eyes. He was expecting to see that familiar look in that gaze that made him feel like he should be hiding yet yearning for that gaze at the same time._

_What he wasn’t expecting was to see his reflection._

_That familiar shade of blond. The haunted blue eyes._

_It was him._

_“Soon,” he could hear himself talking—was it really him? The voice was deeper, almost huskier, “I will be with you again. We will be with each other once again. Soon.”_

Sometimes, Ventus felt like he wasn’t in control of his own body.

His vision would blur out. There were times when he couldn’t even remember what he was doing, only dragged back to reality by his friends. Even his memories felt like they were his but weren’t at the same time.

What was he doing?

Who was he?

They were all answers that he felt like he should know.

Answers that were all within his reach but he couldn’t grasp it.

What was wrong with him?

Ventus tried not to let his worries show. Tried not to let the thoughts of that dark-haired man— _Vanitas_ , his mind kindly provided—overwhelm him. There was a longing to be with him. Now, in his sleep, he felt phantom touches. Kisses on his lips. Fingers brushing against the pulse of his wrist. Fingers running through his hair. There were times when he would wake up with a muffled gasp, hips jerking to a stop while beads of sweat dripped from his forehead. Sleeping became a struggle now. Staying awake was proving to be nightmarish itself.

No matter what he did, he could still feel those hands, feel breaths against his ear as a voice whispered to him.

It haunted him.

(He yearned for it.)

Ventus tried to continue his days without letting it bother him. It worked to an extent. He wasn’t completely overtaken by his desire and thoughts. He didn’t let himself be drawn to this strangeness that seemed to call to him.

He was stronger than that.

Until Sora told him about this strange man he met with dark hair and golden eyes. About this strangeness that seemed to surround him.

One thought crossed his mind: _Vanitas_.


	3. Memories of a Broken Heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Confession | Promise

He remembered it as if it was yesterday.

Their love was never meant to be something desired. They came from different families. They came from different statuses in a society where statuses meant everything. But Vanitas didn’t care much for it—not then, not now. It had been so very long since he had gotten the chance to see his beloved. Ever since that boy left his home, it was all he could ever think about.

The chance to hold his beloved in his arms again.

To see his sweet smile.

To hear his melodious laugh.

It was all he ever truly lived for anymore.

_“You’re going to get a cold sitting out here,” Vanitas scolded his love once he found him sitting out on the balcony._

_It was a beautiful winter night. The stars were gleaming like jewels, a faint light in the distance to guide people home. The snow was illuminated in the moonlight, casting an ethereal glow to anyone who dared to look at its beauty. But all of that paled to the young man Vanitas was talking to, the sun in his darkness that made his days so bright. He could never tire of looking at him. He would trade a thousand suns if it meant he can just keep this one with him always. The only light he ever truly needed, the only brightness that can cast the shadows in his heart away._

_Ventus looked up at him, lips tugged up into a beautiful smile._

_“Sorry. I just wanted to look at the snow.”_

_A soft sigh, golden eyes softening. “You could do that from the warmth inside of our home, you know. You can’t be risking your health just because you wanted to look at frozen water.”_

_“You would say that,” the younger man laughed. The sound of it brought a certain warmth in Vanitas’ chest. “But I’m fine, Vanitas. It’s not often that I get the chance to be out here like this. It’s somehow calming.”_

_His heart ached for this man._

_Vanitas knew that Ventus was often ignored by his own family. Why would they bother paying attention to someone slated for death? Why pour all their attention and affection into a child they knew would be torn from them one day? To him, it didn’t matter. In fact, it just made it all the more possible for Vanitas to keep Ventus to himself. He didn’t have to share him aside from the occasional gathering of friends. He didn’t have to worry about anyone trying to take Ventus away from him. For him, Ventus was the only source of happiness he knew._

_They weren’t meant to fall in love._

_“You think I’m not calming enough to be around? I’m hurt, Ventus.”_

_“You say that, but we both know that it’d be bad for me to be around you when you have to deal with family.”_

_Vanitas held back a grimace. Instead, he sat down next to Ventus, holding back a smile when the other leaned against him. “I told you that I’ll knock them all down if it means being with you.”_

_“You’re such an unexpected sap,” Ventus snorted. “You don’t have to do anything for me. I’m just content being by your side.”_

_“Always?”_

_“Always.”_

Vanitas was old.

Centuries old, even.

It wasn’t as if he tried to welcome death with open arms. No, he had tried countless ways to end his own life if it meant being with his beloved. Of course, life never turned out that way.

_“I love you.”_

_A bright smile that put the sun to shame._

_“I love you, too.”_

They were just children.

Young.

Naïve.

Neither of them was prepared for what would happen.

Vanitas _wasn’t_ ready even though he knew he should have been.

He let his fingers dance along the glass of the mirror. His reflection wasn’t there—rather, the one he wanted to see most wasn’t there. It had come to his attention that lately, the person he loved most, seemed to be avoiding him. _Them_. It made him want to hiss out, find a way to reach through the mirror, but he refrained himself. It would be simple to find someone to bring Ventus to him. To make him realize that he should be with _him_ and not anywhere else.

But there were things preventing him from doing so.

A contract that forced him to remain in this house until that time came.

_The storm was painful._

_Thunder roared._

_The rain felt like hail on his back as he ran down the streets, holding a broken body in his arms. The storm obscured him from view, a harsh cloak in the middle of the night to prevent others from seeing him. A desperate boy holding someone he held dear so tightly against his chest. Clinging to a hope that might have already been gone._

_They weren’t prepared._

_They should have been._

_But they let their love blind them. It hid their eyes from the reality that was slowly creeping up to them. Even when the sun of his life was forced to stay in bed, the light in the sky fading slowly—it fooled them into thinking that time was irrelevant. That they still had more of it just within their reach. Happy days. Bright smiles. Warm nights. Everything that could have been theirs if the world let them keep it. If time just stood still long enough for them to truly be happy with each other without worrying about the shadows that were hungrily watching them._

_Now, the price had been paid._

_A life became lost._

_The sun in his life was dead._

_Vanitas remembered one of Ventus’ friends mentioning a witch once before. An old maid’s tale, he once claimed. There was no proof that this witch existed, after all, but stories told that this witch could do the impossible. She can grant a wish—any wish. But every wish came with a price in the end. Sometimes, the price wasn’t worth it. It wasn’t worth the unhappiness that seemed to follow the person who made the wish or the loss of lives for others._

_It wasn’t worth condemnation that he would set upon himself for making it._

_Yet, as he held this cold body against his chest, he didn’t care._

_He would move a thousand mountains, destroy a million suns, if it meant he can have this one boy back with him._

_The one who taught him how to truly smile._

_The one who made him believe there was something special worth living for._

_He arrived in front of a broken-down mansion, ivy spread across the bricks that held it upright. Even the door itself seemed tattered—splintered and chipped by the years that aged it. His chest hurt, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the exertion of running as if the devil was on his heels or from the anxiety of possibly meeting this so-called witch._

_If she was real._

_No, he had to believe she was. If so, then she was the only person who can help him now._

_He can’t bear to let go of his beloved. Not now._

Vanitas looked out the window when he heard rain pelt against the pane.

It always seemed to be raining nowadays. He wasn’t sure if he liked that or not, but right now, that didn’t matter. The weather was out of his control just as many things were. He felt drawn toward it, walking toward the window to get a better look outside. He wasn’t expecting much people to be out. This place tended to be quiet, after all. A little cozy place in contrast to the bustling city that once hailed these lands so many centuries ago. People were friendly but kept to themselves. They knew better than to try to pry into secrets that didn’t belong.

Of course, Vanitas thought with amusement, the younger generation wouldn’t know any better.

Like that Sora kid.

Here he thought the old men and women of this place would tell tales of this mansion. A broken-down thing still managing to stand after so long. He knew there were rumors surrounding his home, knew how people would often be wary about even coming close to this place. Yet, that kid came and with him, it seemed like all of the pieces were beginning to fall in place. He began to see Ventus more in his reflection, began to feel him more. Even now, their dreams became intertwined. He can slip into Ventus’ dreams now, feeding him the memories that became lost to him over time.

_The witch was an overwhelming figure._

_In a strange way, she seemed to resemble Ventus. Her eyes were the same shade of his, her hair a lustrous blonde that seemed to glow even in the darkness. She seemed young, but held herself in a way that seemed as if she held the weight of the world on her shoulders. Somehow, that seemed daunting. An intimidating figure who didn’t look at all what he expected her to look like._

_But right now, that didn’t matter._

_None of that mattered._

_“You want me to bring him back?” Her voice was soft. It sounded like bells echoing in the wind. “The price of that would be too much for you to pay now.”_

_“I don’t care. Anything. I’ll do anything if it means bringing him back.”_

_He didn’t care about sounding desperate._

_He just knew that he couldn’t let this light die out permanently. Not after everything._

_The witch stared at him. Then her eyes softened. “The price of bringing him back is equal to a life. Nothing is free in this world.”_

_“I don’t care!” he yelled, clutching the body more against him. It was too cold. He longed for its warmth. “Bring him back. Anything—I’ll do anything!”_

_“Very well. In that case—”_

His fingers touched his throat and he stared at his reflection in the window, seeing the symbol of the contract he made with the witch still there.

_“A life for a life. He cannot be brought back now—but in the future, yes. Reincarnation does not happen for everybody; their souls must be tethered to someone of this world.”_

_“Then use mine!”_

_The witch’s eyes were sharp._

_“It is not that simple,” she told him. “It’s an exchange for life, as I’ve said. His soul must be tethered to someone who will live in the future. Not a new soul—but one that is already connected to his. You are a mere mortal; you cannot hope to live long enough to see him be reborn. You will die long before you can get the chance to see him again.”_

_No._

_No._

_**No**._

_He refused. He would do anything to be with his sunshine again._

_Move mountains._

_Destroy suns._

_Rage against the world until it was reduced to ashes if he had to._

_Something suddenly struck him. An idea._

_“Use mine,” he demanded of her again. “But I take your place.”_

_Surprise flickered in her eyes. “You…what?”_

_“Switch places with me. Let my soul become tied to Ventus’ and with that, I’ll take your place. I’ll stand where you are now until the one I love is back in my arms.”_

Vanitas let his fingers dance along the surface of the glass for a bit, drumming against it.

Then he smiled.

“It’s me, it’s you, it’s us,” he whispered. Pulling his fingers back, Vanitas pressed his lips against the ring he had around his finger. “We will never be apart. Not in this life. Not even if the world tries to tear us apart. Our lives are tied together; our hearts are forever one. This is my vow to you—as your husband. As your beloved.”

Forgotten vows that waded away in time.

Vows that he once made to the love of his life—to the light in his heart.

Even if Ventus never truly remembered, Vanitas always will. He would not be standing here now if he didn’t. For him, it didn’t matter. For him, none of it mattered as long as Ventus was back in his arms.

He will do anything to make sure of that.


	4. Reach Out and Never Let Go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Memories

_He was lying in a bed._

_The air was cold, chilling his lungs with each breath he took. He didn’t know whether it was from the freezing weather outside or from the illness that plagued him his entire life, but he did know that he didn’t have much time left. He spent his days trying not to show any worry. He spent his days finalizing everything in his will for when that moment would come. He spent his days with his husband, doing everything in his power to make that haunted look in his eyes go away._

_But his days were numbered._

_They all knew it._

_Ventus knew it from the moment his parents refused to look at him. He knew it from the moment when he was treated more as a wallflower, a thing used for pity in order to gain sympathy. He never had a normal childhood. Days were spent in his room, in bed. Preparing for the worst that seemed to take its time. As a child, Ventus never believed he would live for as long as he had already. Grow up to become a young adult and fall in love, getting married—being happy._

_Everything his parents seemed to be impossible for someone slated for death._

_But he managed to achieve the impossible. He managed to be happy._

_His eyes shifted over to the window, watching as snowflakes stick to the window while the sun was beginning to disappear beyond the horizon. It seemed like a beautiful day._

_It was a shame he wouldn’t see what the rest of the world had to offer._

The dreams were growing more vivid.

Ventus was beginning to get headaches from them. It was beginning to get the point where he was losing sleep over it, and he knew that his mother and friends were growing concerned. He was concerned, too. But Ventus never told anyone about what was happening to him. Never said a word about the man in his dreams or the man he saw in the mirror.

Would they think he was crazy?

Would they believe him?

Even he wouldn’t believe himself.

Ventus began to write everything into a journal. The dreams, the strange déjà vu he would get whenever he passed by a certain area, and the man he only knew as Vanitas.

_Vanitas_.

Just the name alone brought shudders down his spine—whether it was from fear or excitement, he wasn’t sure. He just knew there was a desire to see him. To be with him. It felt like every inch of his body was screaming at him to go see the man. That it _yearned_ to be with him after so many years. He didn’t know how to handle it; he wasn’t sure if there was a proper way to handle it.

All he knew was that he was falling.

Falling.

_Falling_.

(He wasn’t sure if he wanted to climb his way up anymore.)

_Their love was never meant to be._

_Vanitas was meant for something greater. He came from a known family. Many things were expected from him the moment he was born. There were so many footsteps for him to follow and step on, to forge his own path in the world. To leave a mark behind._

_Ventus was always doomed to die. He wasn’t meant to live for as long as he had already. No one expected anything from him other than his death. There was no future planned for him. Nothing paved out for him aside from a road leading to a hole in the ground._

_They were never supposed to fall in love._

_Yet, none of that bothered them._

_They were young and in love._

_They were happy._

_Ventus never felt such joy before. Warmth blooming in his chest every time Vanitas smiled at him in a way no one would believe if he told them. Those were the memories Ventus kept in his heart selfishly. The moments where he and Vanitas walked in the park, hands laced together—fitting perfectly together like they were always meant to be one. They talked about anything that came to mind._

_Vanitas’ expectations._

_Ventus’ impending fate._

_Neither of them kept secrets from each other._

_Time was too precious to waste on lies._

_Time was too precious to pretend everything was okay when they knew the clock was ticking second by second._

_A soft sigh brushed against his lips, making his eyes open. Gold met his and he smiled, leaning forward to press their foreheads together._

_“What are you thinking about?”_

_“Mm, you. Me. Us.”_

_A chuckle, fingers tenderly brushing against his cheek. “Is that all you ever think about?” The question was teasing, laced with a hidden mirth no one else seemed to ever hear. It was reserved for Ventus alone._

_Ventus laughed softly. “No. Sometimes I think about the poor cat that likes to hang on our front porch that you like to scare away.”_

_“In my defense, the little creature is always trying to get your attention. What was I supposed to do?”_

_“Not get jealous of a cat?”_

_Vanitas huffed, but didn’t pull away. Fingers slid through blond strands, carefully tucking a few behind an ear. “No way. You’re mine. I’m not going to give you up—even to a little devil cat.”_

Ventus was tired.

Exhaustion was settling in his bones, making every movement weary and mechanical. The dreams were worse now. Every scene, every memory haunted him in his waking hour. He wasn’t sure how much sleep he managed to get at all, honestly. Maybe two-three hours at a time? He tried his best to keep himself energetic, to find a purpose to stay awake and radiant even when it seemed like his shoulders were about to fall under the invisible weight he somehow took on. It was beginning to garner attention, he knew.

His mother often shot him worried looks.

Sora seemed to look regretful, sticking by him whenever he dared to step outside.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” A question he heard every time nowadays.

He smiled.

“I’m fine.”

Lies.

When did the lies start coming easily to him now?

Ventus often looked at the mirror now. Sometimes, Vanitas was there on the other side, looking back at him. But in the rare moments he wasn’t, Ventus can see his own reflection staring back at him. His skin was pale, his blond hair losing some of its luster. His eyes were duller than usual, losing that spark in his gaze that drew people to him. It was as if he was turning into a skeleton of his former self. As if Vanitas was draining away whatever life he was clinging to.

_“What have you done? WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?”_

It was only a matter of days before Ventus snuck out of his room at night. His mother was dead asleep; she wouldn’t notice him missing. Their town was quiet. Not a soul awake in the dead of night. It gave Ventus the perfect cover to where he needed to go.

To where his very soul was tugging him to go.

The stars were beautiful. The moon was clear. It was truly a beautiful night, but to him, it was a precursor for something else. Something more waiting for him at the end of the road.

_“It’s me. It’s you. It’s us.”_

_“Forever and always.”_

His chest tightened suddenly as he approached the house. Even in the night, it seemed dreary. Light barely seemed to reach this place. In a way, it gave off the feeling that it was forsaken by time, untouched by the phantoms of the future trying to creep on it. Everything stood still. Not even the wind blew here.

His breath hitched.

His palms felt sweaty.

But he knew he had to do this.

He took a deep breath and—

Knocked.

The sound seemed to echo around him, making his heart beat rapidly enough to make him believe that the pounding was all he could hear in his ears. An echo to the knocking, knuckles rapping against an old oak door. He honestly wasn’t sure if anyone would answer. Sora told him that a man named Vanitas lived there. And Vanitas had to be real for Sora to get an interview from, right? The dreams and memories—everything was connected to him. It revolved around him. If he wanted answers, he had to ask him.

(But why did he feel an ache in his chest at the mere thought of him?)

He was startled out of his thoughts when the door suddenly opened, making him take a step back. Before he can decide to make a run for it instead, the door was pulled to the side and there he was standing before him.

_Vanitas_.

Golden eyes peered at him almost curiously before his lips curled up into a smile.

“Finally, you’ve come to me.” His voice was deep, held with amusement as he regarded Ventus. He reached out and Ventus had the mind to pull away before he touched him—if he touched him, that would make this all too real—but already, those fingertips were skimming against his cheek. The touch was gentle, almost unexpected from a man who exuded the energy of something possibly violent. It was a touch he found himself leaning into. Every inch of his body was craving for the contact, bringing him more peace and energy he felt missing since the dreams began. “My precious sunshine. My life, my love.”

“You’re…”

Vanitas’ expression softened to something kinder.

“I’ve been waiting for you for so long,” the older man said, this time cupping Ventus’ cheeks in his hands. “Far, far too long.”

“Why?”

Vanitas simply smiled.

_Their eyes met._

_Vanitas smiled as he took his hand, lacing their fingers._

_“The two of us—I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.”_


	5. Falling at the Seams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dream | Stars

Vanitas was never the kind of person who would believe in whatever fate planned for him. Predestined paths or anything written in the stars—they were things Vanitas always believed were childish. Ideas created to make people feel better about the lives they chose to lead and still live in. To him, it was childish. Ideas planted to make people believe there truly was some kind of higher order with plans for everyone who lived on this godforsaken piece of land. It was foolish to even believe there was a deity who actually planned everyone’s lives accordingly to the last detail.

Until he met Ventus.

For so many years, Vanitas dreamed of being able to reunite with his love. To touch him. To be with him. He would wait through many wars, many stars showers, if it meant being able to be with him again. For years, he was untouched by time, left alone in the darkness and forced to watch his love be left in the light. The only things that kept him company were his dreams and his wishes. He never fell into that childish notion of making wishes on stars. He knew exactly what he was waiting for, _whom_ he was waiting for. Vanitas had no doubt that they would be reunited again no matter how long it took.

He already waited this long, after all.

The only place he could see Ventus vividly were in his dreams. Memories of them being together playing like a movie in his sleep. Sometimes, not even memories. There were times when he was in Ventus’ dreams.

In this life, Ventus was happier. He had a family who loved him in contrast to the one who abandoned him. There wasn’t an illness that plagued him, leaving him on his own for so long. In this life, he was younger, a newly reborn soul that hadn’t remembered its past just yet. But all of that was nothing now. It meant nothing. To him, it just meant that the sunshine of his life was back in this world where he belonged. Back in a place where Vanitas would be able to see him again, even if it was merely in dreams.

His dreams were sweet.

Peaceful.

It was only made better when their dreams finally reached one another and from there, Vanitas was able to see _more_.

Manipulate it.

Make Ventus _realize_ just what was missing.

It started with a simple touch. A slight gesture to make his dreams surround the memories tucked away into the deepest parts of his soul.

The witch’s powers came in handy after all.

Ventus’ soul would echo with his. Resonate with it until it would reach the point of being unbearable. Vanitas wished no harm on his sunshine; however, there were times when it couldn’t be helped. It was because of their souls being tied together that he could even step into Ventus’ dreams in the first place, his mere presence forcing those sleeping memories to awaken at full force.

He watched it happen.

He noticed it through the reflections.

_Ventus’ dreams were as sweet as him, but there were times when it was bittersweet. Darkness hung in the corners of the dream as if desperately trying to invade it. It made Vanitas frown. Nothing but goodness and light should reside here, but it seemed something else had a different idea._

_That wouldn’t do._

_Vanitas waved his hand, watching as chains appeared around him. Each chain was a link to a dream or a memory—sometimes both. But each of them was important. However, right now, Vanitas needed to take his time with it all. Let Ventus remember bit by bit. It wouldn’t do if he got careless, after all._

_He let his fingers trail along one of the chains, watching as the dreams begin to shift into something…brighter. Happier._

_A memory of their wedding being played out around him._

_He smiled._

_Yes, let him remember the love they share._

_That was the only thing that mattered._

A chime echoed through his house.

It immediately caught his attention.

Vanitas turned his head, eying one of the pendulum clocks hanging above his chimney. How long had it been since he heard that sound? Perhaps centuries. After all, time remained stagnant for him after he made that deal with the witch. If it hadn’t been for the change of seasons, he was sure he would’ve lost count by how many years had passed by now. Nothing touched this place anymore. Time forsaken him. The world forgot him. However, it appeared that everything was beginning to be put into motion again.

Which meant that the time was coming.

He kept his eyes on the second hand of the clock, watching it slowly tick with a creaking sound. It was obvious from the sound alone that it hadn’t been used in a long time. There was no point in keeping it maintenance when he had no reason to. Now, he can see that time truly had chosen to return to him. The wind around the house began to whisper now. Tales of how the years have changed. Secrets only the winds can ever know for they never died, never withered like the earth had. It was a nostalgic feeling, he can admit.

It had been far too long since he was able to actually watch the world reach out to him, longing to make him a part of it again.

Not that he would want to rejoin it without his sunshine by his side.

Only darkness was his company throughout these years. The stars his silent confidantes when he needed to fill the void of silence surrounding him.

He had to get everything ready.

He needed to make sure everything was prepared.

This was only the beginning for them.

He was as beautiful as he remembered him to be.

It was as if life had been kind to him. He was untouched. Bright. Happy. There wasn’t the faintest scent of despair on him that drew Vanitas to him in the first place. But as much as he enjoyed the hint of despair that clung to him, Vanitas much rather prefer the brightness that donned him. It made him seem brighter, filled with much light and purity than he was in the past. The same stunning blue eyes that drew Vanitas in. They were wide and open, filled with light and it just made Vanitas fall in love with him even more.

Even now as he sat in Vanitas’— _their_ —living room, he stood out so much. A life of color in contrast to the monotone that surrounded them. Vanitas had to actively struggle not to stare at him so much even if he wanted nothing more than to do so. The idea of having Ventus _here_ with him was enough to have his chest tightening, throat closing up with centuries’ old emotions he never really figured out how to express. He had wanted nothing more than this. Desired nothing else but this one man in front of him.

Some can say that Vanitas was obsessed.

Others can claim that he was driven by desperation to have this one person back in his life.

Those who knew his story had the fancy idea of terming it the ‘tale of star-crossed lovers’, but none of that were true in the same way they _were_ true.

“I never expected you to try to find me,” Vanitas spoke up after a moment of silence. He watched the way Ventus’ fingers twitched, startled by the sudden sound of a voice instead of the ticking of the clock. “In fact, I thought you’d rather try your best to avoid coming here.”

Ventus pursed his lips.

It looked kissable.

But he forced his gaze away from them in order to look at Ventus properly as he began to speak: “I didn’t want to come here. I tried to ignore it—all of it. All of you. I thought I was going crazy at first, but…”

“But?”

“Then I started having dreams.” Ah, yes. Vanitas knew exactly which dreams he was talking about. He had a hand in it, after all. “Or…memories. I don’t know. It’s all weird to me.”

Vanitas nodded slowly. “I’m sure it is. But you’re here now. You’re with me. What are you hoping to find out from me?”

“I…”

Ventus seemed hesitant.

In a way, it felt like he was back in the past. Ventus was shy—shier, now that he thought about it. Given his past, the blond never liked to talk about what was in his thoughts. He would much rather smile his way through his pains and troubles instead of talking to anyone about it. No, Vanitas thought, it wasn’t as much as he hated talking about his problems. It was more that his own family conditioned him to believe that his issues were his own to handle; they were never there for him. Why try talking to anyone who only seemed to leave him behind?

Not for the first time, Vanitas wished he could end Ventus’ family.

“It’s okay,” he tried to reassure him. “You can talk to me. Anything.”

Unsure blue eyes look at him.

Swallowing, Ventus said, “I…. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to come see you. I feel like if I did, then I’d lose something important about myself.”

“But?”

“But it feels right to be here,” the younger man admitted, voice shy. “Like I was always meant to be here. I don’t know why. But seeing you…fills me with dread as much as it fills me with relief. Why…?”

Vanitas felt every inch of him soften. It couldn’t be helped. There was always something about Ventus that made him feel relaxed, like he can drop his guard around him. It was always like that. He hated it as much as he loved it.

Reaching over, Vanitas took Ventus’ hands in his. They were warm. Perhaps warmer than anything else he ever felt these past few centuries. Vanitas was always cold, always yearning for a warmth he could never attain himself. It was the same from back when he was a kid. A tiny child staring up with wide eyes at the man he once called father. At the older boys he once called his brothers. He grew up without a mother, no one to truly care for him. For his entire life, he was cold—only knowing the chills creeping in his bones and all the way to his fingertips.

Yet Ventus was warm.

Always so, so warm.

“Because our souls are tied together,” Vanitas eventually began to explain. He knew that he couldn’t stall forever. Time was of the essence now that it finally began to move again. If he dawdled for too long, the moments would pass by too quickly and there was still so much to do. So much to catch up on. “You are me. I am you. We are always tied together.”

Ventus looked down at their linked hands, his expression unreadable. Then his fingers tighten.

“Is that why I’m seeing you? Why instead of my reflection, I see yours?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Vanitas stared hard at him.

“Because we were always meant to be together.”

If someone were to ask Vanitas if he believed in fate, he would say no.

Fate written in the stars was a belief someone made up long ago. A way to make people feel better. Anyone who claimed they were going to follow their dreams would eventually realize that dreams _change_. They never stayed on a linear path. Life didn’t work that way. Life was cruel in that regard. It was just how life worked. It wasn’t dictated by anything like the stars or guided by someone’s foolish dreams; no, what mattered was taking life into your own hands. Change your own fate. Control your own destiny.

But as much as he liked to believe it, there were some things that couldn’t be controlled by humans.

_“If you wish to tie your life to his by taking my place in the process, then there is much that you need to know,” the witch told him. “After all, everything comes with a price.”_

_He held the body closer to him, unwilling to let go even for a second. “I don’t care. Tell me what it is.”_

Even now, as Vanitas watched Ventus, he was rudely reminded of what the price was. Of how small the world truly was.

“I don’t know what I want,” Ventus whispered, eyes still fixed on their hands. “I don’t know if being with you is a good idea considering everything. You say that we were always meant to be together, but…is that right?”

“Yes.” His grip tightened on Ventus’ hands. He can’t let go. He won’t ever let go. Not again. “I’ve waited so long for you, Ventus. I don’t…want to lose you again. I don’t ever want to be without you again.”

Vanitas didn’t think he can last those cold days.

Continue staying in this broken home by himself any longer. It was too much. With time recognizing this place again, it was hard to ignore what it meant if everything failed. He couldn’t let this chance slip away from him.

“Ventus, please…”

Ventus looked up, unsure. Then he slowly nodded.

“Okay.”


	6. Happiness on a Paper

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Home

The house was quiet, Ventus realized.

It wasn’t often he woke up alone. He grew accustomed to the feeling of another warmth lying beside him, an arm placed protectively around his waist. It was a feeling he grew to love, feeling warm and protected in that hold. It was a feeling he grew to desire even during his waking moments. Vanitas rarely left his side as well, not without good reason. His husband often told him if there was business he had to attend to the night before or even leaving a note, but this time, there was no notice.

Where was he?

Ventus forced himself to sit up, still groggy from waking up. He looked around, taking in the bits of sunshine peeking through the curtains, hearing the birds chirping outside. He can feel his lips tug up into a smile, warmth filling his chest. It sounded like it would be a good day. The idea of being able to spend the day with his husband was enough of a motivator to get him to finally move out of the bed to find out where his other half could have gone. Since it was still early in the morning, he couldn’t have gone far, right? Surely, he must be downstairs?

After washing up, Ventus made his way downstairs.

There was a brief pause, fingers twitching on the banister before he stepped onto the first step. Something…felt wrong. Or maybe it felt right? He felt as if something was amiss. Tilting his head to the right, Ventus furrowed his brows, unsure if he was imagining things or not. It had him lifting his gaze, getting a better look at the house around him. The walls were ivory, not a dent or scratch in sight. There was a chandelier made of glass hanging from the ceiling, one that he helped Vanitas purchase when they first bought the house. Even the familiar photos of them were hanging on the wall, framed and bright.

So, why did it feel like something was missing?

Ventus pursed his lips.

But then his head started to hurt.

Shaking his head a bit, Ventus continued his descent down the stairs. As he reached closer to the ground floor, his nose twitched at the familiar scent of coffee.

Ah, so that was where he was.

Ventus felt his lips tug up into a smile, his steps filled with a little more joy now in his steps as he made his way to the kitchen. He paused again briefly.

What…felt wrong?

“Ventus?”

The call of his name had him startled, looking up at Vanitas as he approached him. There was concern in those golden eyes, one that made his heart fill up with warmth and burst with it, too. No matter how many times he looked at him, Ventus only felt an overwhelming adoration for this man, feel the love threatening to burst him from the inside out.

“Sorry,” Ventus apologized, not quite sure what he was apologizing for. From the look on Vanitas’ face, he seemed just as confused. “Sorry. My head just feels a little foggy.”

Vanitas tilted his head to the side. “You should take it easy then. It wouldn’t do if you accidentally exerted yourself.”

Ventus slowly nodded, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “You’re right.”

“Don’t worry about it.” Pale fingers gently touched his cheek before cupping it. “All that matters is that you’re alright. How do you feel otherwise?”

“I feel—”

He paused.

What did he feel?

His mind felt so foggy. It felt like there was something blocking him from trying to remember something important. Was it important? Or did he just sleep for too long thinking he missed out on something? He blinked, looking down at himself. Somehow, he expected himself to feel more…sick. Ventus wasn’t oblivious to how ill he had been feeling progressively the past few days. It was why he was usually bedridden, usually laced with fevers that would normally take days to go away. However, he began to realize that he didn’t feel as sick as before.

Odd…

But he also felt relief.

“Fine,” Ventus finished as he looked at Vanitas. “Better than ever actually.”

Vanitas smiled at that.

“Good.” He leaned in, briefly pressing their lips together. Just the feeling of the kiss made his cheeks heating up, pure happiness radiating off of him. It was the kind of feeling he ever grew to associate with Vanitas. How _happy_ the other man made him. “Come on. I’ve made breakfast for us.”

“I can’t wait.”

_Their first home together was the first purchase they ever made as a couple._

_They both agreed that they wanted something simple, something that would fit both of them. Vanitas was tired of extravagant homes with too many floors and far too many empty rooms. Ventus was just tired of living in a small home with so many people and yet none of them gave him attention. At least together, they can find something that would suit both of their needs as long as they remained together. They ended up buying a home at the end of a quiet street. Only a few streetlights lined the dirt roads, only a few houses were spread out from theirs._

_It was a perfect place._

_It was theirs._

_Vanitas brought in the furniture while Ventus decorated the house. Both of them shared their input in where they wanted everything to go. Both of them had a hand in making sure that their home actually felt like it belonged to them and no one else. No ghosts lingering in the corner. No family members watching over them, trying to plan their every move down to the littlest step. They could be happy here._

_Together, they can find their happy ending._

_Ventus adored their little home. It was one of the first things he learned to treasure greatly as something of his own. It was the first thing he came to appreciate having. Both of them always made it a point to be home with each other. Neither of them liked to be away from each other for too long. For them, their home was their haven. For them, the other person was their sanctuary._

_All they really need was each other._

The garden was beautiful.

Then again, Ventus guessed it would be. Not to toot his own horn or anything, but he always enjoyed tending to the garden and making it thrive. It was sectioned off in the back of their house, surrounded by a small fence that Vanitas had taken care to put up himself. All sorts of flowers were in bloom, petals all vibrant with colors that shone beautifully in the sunlight. To the right, he can see the pumpkins beginning to grow ripe with other vegetables ready to be pulled. It made him wonder if Vanitas was also helping care for the garden while he was in bed.

Vanitas had no green thumb, but he managed pretty well all things considered.

He felt his lips tug up into a smile.

His husband had done so much for him to ensure that he remained comfortable, feel safe. To ensure that he knew that this place was meant to be his _home_ without any worry of anything else trying to get in the way of that. Even if he would grouch about it, Vanitas helped him out, did little things to keep him happy. His friends teased him once about it before—how Vanitas was considered so smitten with him that he’d do anything for him.

Ventus knew that to be the truth, which was why he did his best to do the same.

Love was meant to be equal, after all.

Love was meant for them to share with one another without any secrets between them.

An idea popped into his head and Ventus perked up. Maybe he can surprise Vanitas with a special dinner? The days were a blur to him so he wasn’t quite sure what date it was, but he was certain that their anniversary was coming up soon. Or perhaps it was tonight? Either way, he needed to start preparing for dinner while Vanitas was out. He hoped Vanitas would like it. Ventus was no chef in the kitchen, but he can cook a decent meal at least.

_It was empty and cold._

_He was scared._

_There was the sound of thunder outside. A storm was brewing, pelting hard against the windows. It frightened him, knowing that even if he wanted to try to escape, there was nowhere for him to go. The storm was too much. It made him want to curl up underneath the covers more._

_Cold._

_…So cold._

_Ventus longed for the warmth that seemed to evade him. He wanted nothing more than to call for Vanitas. He wanted the warmth of his husband beside him. But he knew that his husband was currently out of the house, leaving Ventus on his own for the first time in a while. He hated it. He hated how he grew so accustomed to having his husband here with him. Hated knowing that the reason why Vanitas wasn’t with him right now was to try to find a way to save him._

_His illness progressively grew worse over the days._

_It finally reached a point where he was struggling to get out of bed._

_Ventus was cold._

_He took a deep breath before coughing softly, feeling his lungs rattling in his chest and it hurt. All of it hurt. His bones ached. His eyes felt dry and itchy. Exhaustion wore him down in ways he didn’t think could exist before. They were all just reminders that perhaps his time was finally coming for him. The time was ticking, after all. It wouldn’t stop just for him. Time wouldn’t wait for anyone. It wouldn’t wait, not when it still had to keep on ticking for everyone and the world._

_Ventus blinked a few times._

_He can feel something wet trailing down his cheeks, falling sideways toward the pillow._

_Ah, he was crying._

_He swallowed._

_“Vanitas,” he whispered, voice hoarse. “Vanitas, please come home. Come home to me….please…”_

_He trailed off, feeling too exhausted for anything else as his eyes fell close._

He was sleepy.

Dinner was a success and what came afterward was even better. His body felt pleasantly sore, his neck still stinging from several bites that Vanitas placed on him during their tryst together. In a way, it felt like he was becoming one with his husband again, as if he was apart from him for too long. Now, he just felt like dozing off, content and wrapped up under the blankets. He just felt…warm. Comforted. Safe.

It was nice.

He can feel Vanitas shift beside him briefly before he felt fingers card through his hair.

“Welcome home, Ventus.”


	7. Where the Heart is

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Free Day

He was no fool.

He knew that people would come looking for Ventus soon. After all, it had already been a few days since the younger man left home, and he was fairly sure that people would come to him first. He was suspicious on all accounts. Secluded in the corner of their town, always a man who was rumored to be more of a ghost than an actual man. Then again, they were not far from the truth. Vanitas didn’t count himself human anymore; ghost seemed to be a more fitting description of himself. Perhaps even a witch would be more appropriate though Vanitas couldn’t quite cast spells like his predecessor could.

No, he used his powers simply to keep an eye on Ventus, to lure him over once he was ready to remember everything. It wasn’t as if he needed to do much. Dream walking was simple enough to do even for him. However, perhaps it was time for him to start experimenting more with what he was able to do. There was only a matter of time now, but he knew that getting Ventus ready was most important. He wasn’t ready. Not just yet. The memories were still settling in, but Vanitas knew that one wrong move could have his mind turning into nothing but mush.

Souls resonating with one another can be hard on the body and mind, after all.

Vanitas narrowed his eyes, keeping his gaze on Ventus even as he continued to run his fingers through his hair.

If his calculations go correctly, then it won’t be long before he had people trying to come knock on their door. They can suspect him of kidnapping Ventus; they wouldn’t believe him if he told them that the blond came to him out on his own. No, not Ventus. Not with knowing how precious he was, how loved he was. It was so different from the past where no one bothered to pay him much attention aside from their mutual friends. He was loved in this life. A caring mother who actually paid attention to her son and friends who seemed to give Ventus all the attention he wanted.

Not that Vanitas had any plans to actually give his sunshine up, mind you.

He had been keeping a close eye on Ventus since the moment he was aware of his birth. The town was small enough where word was quick to reach every listening ear. How Ventus’ mother had given birth alone without the father in sight; how the two of them received such support from the town so that the mother can raise Ventus comfortably without any worries. The people here were kind—far too kind. It was such a vast contrast to what Vanitas had witnessed and seen throughout the centuries, watching that family treat Ventus like a ghost to now, treating him as if he was the sun always meant to be held close. It was a nice change considering everything that happened to him in the past. But it didn’t matter.

Whether Ventus was loved by his new family or not—they would not come close to the love that Vanitas felt for him.

Pure, unadulterated love that he held onto so desperately for so long.

He had to do whatever he could to ensure that this doesn’t slip away from them—not again.

Vanitas leaned down, pressing his lips against Ventus’ forehead.

“I’ll do anything in my power to ensure that you remain with me,” he whispered, feeling Ventus relax beneath him. “That we continue to have our happy ending.”

Pulling back, Vanitas stared at his husband longer.

Ventus was so pure, so innocent—so naïve. He was sure that in their past, things could have gone so different. Perhaps if he hadn’t been ailed with an illness, the blond would have had many opportunities set before him. Perhaps if his parents actually made the effort of being there for him, caring for him as proper parents should, then Ventus might actually get better—live longer. But that didn’t happen and Vanitas wanted to make sure nothing like that happened to him again.

He would burn the world for this man.

He reluctantly pulled away from his sunshine, ignoring the way his body already ached to return to Ventus. He went centuries without him already. Why would he try to be apart from him? But life wasn’t that kind, and there were people who would try to take Ventus away from him.

Try to keep them apart.

He couldn’t have that.

Not again.

There was a story that lingered in the small town of Destiny Islands.

It was a story about a man named Vanitas and another one named Ventus. For many people, these names often go hand in hand. No one knew how the two of them were connected to one another; no one could explain what happened on that day when the Mayor went to go confront Vanitas about Ventus’ disappearance. They knew that something wasn’t right with the famous loner of Destiny Islands; everyone knew that he was a man that they were meant to stay away from. Yet, Ventus didn’t adhere to that unspoken rule. He went to Vanitas’ house—at least, that was what one of his friends could only surmise. And he never came back out.

No one knew why.

People believed that Vanitas killed him.

Others claimed that they ran away together.

Fairytales didn’t exist in this world. They were stories told to young children to ease their minds and fill it with dreams. No, this story was far from a fairytale. A ghost tale would be more fitting.

How one man lived for so long in hopes of being with his beloved again.

How he had a hand in his reincarnation just to ensure that his sunshine would live once more.

Their story was a simple one.

It was a tragedy.

A love story.

No one knew what happened to the two of them after that day. No one could quite explain what they saw. Dark clouds surrounding that tiny house with that huge garden, the glare of gold amidst the darkness before it all faded away into the wind. They can only remember the heartbroken cries of a mother, the pleas to bring her son back. No one can quite explain the scene they saw as they watched it all disappear before their very eyes and then slowly, it became nothing more than a distant memory.

Gone.

Their story became a legend in their little town. A story of a forgotten love, of a tragic one. Many claimed that they were all just hallucinations, haunted by a ghost that could never truly pass. Even when asked, no one could quite remember who _Ventus_ or _Vanitas_ was anymore. They only knew their names. Only knew that they were ghosts that liked to linger in the forgotten corner of their town, hidden away by a darkness that no one could seem to break through.

That was their story.

Their legacy.

_“I am you, you are me. Together, we were always meant to be.”_

**Author's Note:**

> This is the start of VanVen week for 2020 so I'm tackling this on by doing something a little different. Do I even know what's going on? No. But I'm hoping everyone enjoys this anyway!


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